


Ginger and Snaps

by devlandiablo



Series: 59-34-8th-Hudson [5]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Communication, Good BDSM Etiquette, Impact Play, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Sadism, Sounding, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 10:50:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11057406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devlandiablo/pseuds/devlandiablo
Summary: Another in the 59-34-8th-Hudson series. Frank asks Matt to hurt him, describing just what he would like Matt to do.





	Ginger and Snaps

A.N.: A quick-fic because I have not touched this series in… let’s just say far too long, okay? [Ducks rotten fruit]  


GINGER AND SNAPS

Matt didn’t ask for things, not outright. Frank couldn’t get him to, because of Stick and Elektra and too much other goddamned shit Frank has to pry out of his lover if he wanted to have any chance of knowing where the landmines were before he stepped on them and blew them both up, and sometimes it was frustrating as fuck, but Frank didn’t give up, wouldn’t. 

Frank sometimes had problems asking for things too. 

He thinks about his wife, who had talked to him all the time, asked him for what she wanted and told him and demanded it, when she was in the mood, and he was happy to serve, to be what she wanted and needed, because she was that for him in return, she’d ask him what he wanted and needed and let him tell her all the shit he had to get out of his skull before it grew too deep roots, their bed his confessional, and when he couldn’t tell her, when the words just wouldn’t come, he could kneel with the crop across his outstretched hands and she’d help burn it out, burn him clean. 

“Frank?” 

He twitched away from the window, the snow coming down thick and fast, insulating them from the Christmas cheer of the streets. 

“Food’s ready.” 

In the twilight of Matt’s apartment, Frank could relax, could get what he wanted, if he asked for it, if he told Matt what he needed. 

“Thank you.” 

It was a simple meal- pasta and meat sauce and salad- and it went down easy. He didn’t overeat, enough to keep his blood sugar from dropping later, enough to make Matt happy that Frank wasn’t in one of his spirals. 

When they were done, Frank rose and cleared the table, letting Matt sit and drink his coffee. He watched him finish the cup, his hands busy with the dishes, running his eyes over every inch of Matt he could see for any injury that might keep the night from turning into something more than dinner alone.

The clink of the cup on the table was a starting bell, just as Frank was drying his hands. He cleared his throat. 

“Matt, do you want to play?” 

Matt half-turned toward him, one eyebrow raised. “Did you have something in mind?” 

“Yes.” 

Matt nodded. Frank took a deep breath and let it out. He took a few steps to Matt’s side and knelt, thighs splayed, back straight, head up, heels of his hands braced on his kneecaps. His bare feet flexed against the floor, the one that had been drilled through aching a bit with the weather, the position tolerable for now. He knew Matt knew and wouldn't make him kneel too long. 

“I want you to hurt me. Please.” 

Matt put his calloused hand on the back of Frank’s neck and squeezed, firmly. “How?” 

That wasn’t a no. 

Frank let the words spill out of him, measured, like snowfall. 

“I have a heavy rubber band in my bag and some ginger oil.” He breathed out, already imagining the thwack and sting, the tingle that would become a heat and the way the pain would change, spreading across his skin, under, twisting him inside out, how he’d just have to take it if Matt put him down how he wanted. Please, let Matt want to do it. 

“I want you to cover me in welts and then rub me down with the oil, while I’m tied, a tight spread eagle I can’t get away from, belly-down on the bed, and plugged, and the sound, I want the sound too, and then I’d like you to fuck me and edge me until I beg.”

“Is there more you want?” 

Frank closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Matt’s leg. He shook a bit, the rest of what he wanted spilling out across his mind. It was going to hurt, so good. He nodded, rubbing his temple against the suit pants Matt had yet to remove. He bit his lip, needing Matt to keep touching him as everything went a little soft around the edges.

Matt hummed and spread his fingers, rubbing against the grain of the bristle on the back of his head, scraping lightly with the edge of his thumb at the scar across Frank’s crown, cradling his skull. 

“Tell me.” 

Head still down, the words teased out by each skritch and flex of Matt's hand, Frank continued. 

“I want you to turn me over and tie me back down and do it to my front too, including my thighs and my belly and… my balls. I want you to hurt my balls, Matt. And then plug me with the knotting vibrator and put the bite-clamps on my nipples and keep hurting me until I scream, and only when you’re happy, let me come." He shifted his shoulders but didn't dislodge Matt's hold. "Or not.” 

“Sweetheart.” Matt lifted Frank’s head, both hands warm, half-wrapped around his neck, thumbs in the hinge of his jaw so he couldn't get away, tickling the front of his ears. He leaned forward and kissed Frank. “I’m always happy with you."

Frank could smell his arousal and it made his mouth water. His hands twitched against the fabric of his sweatpants. 

Matt sat back and dug his nails into Frank’s scalp, the pressure of his thumb tips making his jaw drop open, so Frank’s breath seeped, hot and wet, across Matt’s lap. He smirked and Frank’s heart skipped a beat. 

“You’re going to get up and get your bag and go into the bedroom. I’ll be in, in just a minute, and then I’m going to hurt you as much as you want.” 

“Thank you.”


End file.
